THE HAUNTING OF WILDERS RIDGE

the trees towering above them like silent sentinels, their branches swaying gently in a wind that shouldn't hav

demanded, trying to keep up. "What is

the shadows. "You don't understand yet," he said, his voice strained. "But you will. T

"Me? What do you m

o this place. To its past. To what was done here." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Your father

whispers about the town's origins, about a powerful artifact hidden dee

she repeated, her voice

t's an artifact with the power to manipulate reality itself. It was created centuries ago by those who once lived here-dark ma

t race. "So someon

hing to get it. That's why the town was ab

ed, her throat tight. "Did h

oo close, and they took him." Mara shook her head in disbelief. This was too much. Her father's disappearance had haunted her for years, and no

ntinued, urgency creeping into his tone. "The W

them. The air grew thick, and an eerie whisper drifted on

he muttered. "We

uldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. A part of her wanted to trust him, but

enly, his body tense

rs carried by the wind, echoed through the trees. But th

e whispered bac

said, his voice lo

cloaked in a dark robe, its face hidden by a hood. The air grew colder,

tense, protective. "Get behind me," h

ld her she wasn't safe here. The figure raised a h

hilling, as if it belonged to the very shadow

ople were, but one thing was certain: the past was coming for her. An